Calling to Kill
by nudame
Summary: When Duncan recruited more than one new warden, how were the stories told of the Hero of Ferelden different? AU storyline. Told mainly from M!Surana POV but it switches. Rated T for probable language, blood magic, and mostly violence.
1. When the winding paths cross

A/N: This is my take on what could have happened. So commentary is welcome, and all readers are appreciated.

A/N: 'Tis been edited.

I don't own dragon age.

"And so It comes to me at last." The rage demon hissed. The mage watched as it rose from the ground. "Soon I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul." The mage snickered as his mousy 'companion' shied away from the 'terrifying' demon.

"That sounds like a dirty pick-up line, demon. And not a very good one, at that." A flash of ice and the demon sank back into the ground. "Now," The mage clapped his hands together, as if to dust them of debris. "Mouse. It seems you were given a task, here in the fade. The rage demon weeds out the weak. You weed out the stupid. Am I incorrect?"

The spirit regarded him for a moment, before a feral grin overtook his features. "Simply killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the fade are preconceptions, careless trust…pride." The human spirit glowed briefly, growing larger, with pointed black shoulders and horns, glowing red eyes gazing out at the mage. A pride demon. "Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end." The demon made to transport, before a large sword cleaved him in two, the separate pieces of the demon's face frozen briefly in shock before he disappeared, nonexistent, like everything that died in the fade.

"A demon is a demon. It doesn't matter whether or not you mean me harm. I won't let one go free when it so easily lowers its guard." The mage lowered the staff-turned-sword, before feeling the tug of true unconsciousness.

The redheaded elf sat up blearily, his shoulders shaken roughly. Jowan sighed with relief, before standing. "I was so worried! They brought you back in here earlier. We didn't even notice you were gone until they brought you back!" Xavier sat up, lowering his gaze to his hands. "What was it like?" He asked eagerly, "I've asked others, but they're not helpful at all."

"It was just a Harrowing, Jowan." The redheaded elf stood, smoothing his apprentice robes before reaching for a staff that was no longer there. Jowan gave him a look of confusion that quickly was replaced by frustration.

"First Enchanter Irving sent me to fetch you. You're needed in his office." Jowan finally spat, after having been refused the secrets of the Harrowing. Jowan stamped off, and Xavier set off through the library, grabbing loose bits of information from fellow mages and stealing abandoned notes on his way, greeting senior enchanters Niall and Sweeney.

In Irving's office, Gregoir-the knight-commander of the tower and Irvin himself were arguing.

"I have already sent enough of our own to aid the king's armies for this supposed 'Blight'! More mages are not needed." The knight-commander growled.

"Since when have the mages been your own? When they are out of the reach of your Templars? The Mages are needed aid to the king's armies." Irving countered with his cold logic.

Xavier stood silent, awaiting their notice. Finally, Irving glanced at Xavier, noticing him for the first time, and the argument ended. Gregoir left in a huff, as the First Enchanter greeted Xavier.

"Ah! Here he is! Xavier, I would like you to meet someone. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens. He has stopped at the tower and is looking for potential Grey Wardens."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grey warden." Xavier nodded to the older man. Duncan nodded in return.

"Well met." the First enchanter reached for a bundle of cloth, pressing it into Xavier's hands.

"These are your proper clothes," he said, not noticing the disgruntled look on the elf's face before going to a side closet and removing a large wooden pole-like object. "And this is your staff. Carry them with pride." The old man smiled, and Xavier merely nodded, before fully looking away from the grey warden he had been inspecting out of the corner of his eye.

"If that is all, First enchanter..?" Xavier retreated a step backwards towards the door.

"I would also like you to escort Duncan to his guest quarters on the far side of the tower. Duncan is our honored guest, and we will see to it that he is comfortable." The enchanter's face smiled, but Xavier could sense the want for Duncan to leave from the old man.

"Very well. I take my leave, First Enchanter." Xavier left the chamber quickly, his staff on his back and his new robes under his arm. Duncan easily matched his footsteps, the shorter male's legs quickly moving.

"So you're a Grey Warden, Ser Duncan?" Xavier didn't dare to let the hope he was feeling creep into his voice.

"I am." Duncan confirmed.

"I heard that during previous Blights, the Wardens rode on griffons into battle. I don't suppose there are any of those left though?" Xavier spared a small smile for the older man, and Duncan chuckled, but shook his head.

"The griffons of legends are just that now. Legends."

"Pity. Their existence always held a hopeful appeal for me." Xavier continued quickly, passing Cullen the Templar, and Owain the Tranquil.

"And what holds a hopeful appeal for you now?" Duncan questioned. Xavier regarded him with a look. "Well it certainly can't be what you currently have. You're unhappiness radiates from around you." Xavier resisted the urge to glare, but merely fixed his face with a blank look.

"It doesn't matter what I want. It only matters that I keep the world safe from myself." Xavier ground his teeth as he said it, his mind rebelling at the words forced from his mouth.

"But if you had a chance to leave the tower, would you do so?" Xavier's steps stuttered to a stop. A chance to leave the tower. To be under open sky around the trees and live things-his thought train broke off. He instead looked at the floor as he quickly left Duncan alone in his temporary quarters, his question unanswered.

Jowan found him directly after, and Xavier went to solve his friend's issues, instead of having to face the questions and problems of his own.

-•-•-

"They're going to make me tranquil! I can't lose Lily! We need your help to find my phylactery and destroy it."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" The elf asked warily. Xavier's new Mage robes were gold and brown and orange, the colors of fall, and they matched his fiery hair perfectly. Even Jowan had to admit his friend looked rather dangerous as he inquired.

"What else could there be to do? Let them make me tranquil? I can never do that." Jowan accentuated his thoughts with large, obnoxious hand movements. Lily merely stood by him, looking all proper and innocent, even as she prepared to break all of her precious chantry's rules for a lover. Which, mind you, was also against the rules. Xavier grimaced mentally. He would stand by his friend; years of pain were only punctuated by the loyalty the two held to each other. It was the least he could do. After all, it wasn't like he was a blood mage, or anything of the sort.

'-_- '-_-

"No! I won't let them take Lily!" The blood sprayed, and Lily and Xavier were knocked away from Jowan as the knights and others in front of him were injured and infected painfully by the dark magic.

"I can't believe you lied to me!" Lily's outcry seemed to wake Jowan from his daze, as he pulled his knife from his hand, the blood dripping onto the stones ominously. He had signed his own death sentence in blood.

"I only dabbled! I swear! Just when they were going to make me tranquil-" Jowan protested, but Lily shook her head tightly, hair loop flying.

"No Jowan. It's too late." Xavier stood, moving to curse his friend out, before stumbling to his knees again when Jowan used another spell to transport out of the tower, the quakes seeming to jostle even the construction of the tower. Jowan was officially a maleficar. Xavier's breath was forced from his body under the blast of a Holy Smite, his lungs burning as he struggled for breath, black dots crowding in his sight, and thrashing as his mana was ripped forcefully from his body, falling forward onto his hands and knees as he struggled.

"Enough! The blood Mage is gone!" Gregoir yelled belatedly, his voice bellowing at the surrounding Templars. Cullen stared at the helpless elf on the floor with pity, but also with awe, being hit by so many Holy Smites simultaneously and remaining conscious.

Xavier's vision returned to par as he was hauled to his feet limply, a Templar on each side. The two reigning forces at the tower fought over his innocence, but Xavier didn't care anymore. Didn't they realize there was a gaping hole in the wall..? Wouldn't they need to follow and capture Jowan as quickly as possible? The thought of Jowan's capture stirred no feeling but irritation. Finally, a dark haired figure intervened.

"If I may interrupt, Knight-commander. First Enchanter." Those in question looked at Duncan sharply. "I would like to conscript this Mage into the Grey Wardens. Talent on par with his should not be left to waste." The knight commander sputtered angrily, but could conceive no proper rebuttal. To be conscripted was looked upon as a misfortune.

"A wonderful idea, Duncan. Surely he will be an aid to your cause." The First Enchanter's voice was grave, but the elf no longer cared that the Grey warden was going on the old mage's word alone on his talents, instead staring in shock at the two. Xavier's stomach dropped. He was leaving the tower, for good? He would no longer be surrounded by stone walls and idiotic people with violent fear of the arcane. They argued on, and with time, another mage was summoned from her chambers. Xavier cringed internally as he saw the First Enchanter's intent to get Amell recruited as well.

"We must leave as soon as possible. I fear I have already been away from the other recruits as long as I dare to." Duncan's clipped tone gave the impression that the other recruits were not the only reason he wanted to leave. Xavier spared a look at the First Enchanter, who stared back at him with eyes of a beaten and guilty man. The elf looked away quickly, gritting his teeth as he kept a straight face, being led out the doors of the tower by Duncan, Amell following behind him. The First Enchanter knew. The bastard knew what he'd done!

When the three set out on the road away from lake Calenhad, the first thing Xavier did was pluck a flower from its stem. A random daisy, which he deposited into Amell's hair loop. She didn't seem to notice, as she was gazing about her, wide-eyed. Xavier smiled, taking in girl's simple and plainly delicate face. It was very pretty, he had to admit. Yet, he felt nothing but obligated to protect her, their friendship over past events the only thing that held any sort of alliance to the young woman. She was like a sister. His only family, elvhen or not.

"Where are we going?" Xavier asked finally, if only to distract himself from his own thoughts. "You said you were recruiting an army?" Duncan nodded.

"We are going to Ostagar. It sits in the Korcari forest to the south. It was used to defend the north from the Chasind people. It seems only fitting that we make our stand there, even if the enemy is different." Amell made a face.

"Ser Duncan, I've read that darkspawn are filthy and they turn the sky dark and they turn the land dead wherever they go. Is that true?" Silje asked, her eyes not straying from the horizon. The grey warden gave a dark chuckle.

"It is much more than just dead. It is a disease on the land, spreading only like death's hand could." Duncan revealed with remorse. Xavier stopped to pluck another long-stemmed flower, the red thing glowing slightly before it wilted and turned black, disintegrating in his grasp. Silje's eyes widened in surprise, the blue irises obnoxiously obvious in the dimming light of the sky. Xavier ignored her, flicking the ashes from his hand and picking another flower as they walked on, watching Duncan's back, the man's dagger and long sword glinting dangerously in the fading light.

When they arrived at Ostagar, the group of three was approached by a man in gold armor. "Ho, there, Duncan! I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun." The man in armor was obviously someone royal. The only person Xavier could think of to fit the definition was-

"Not if I could help it, your majesty." Duncan replied, ever serious.

"Then I will have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious! The other wardens told me you'd found another recruit." The king looked to see the two mages, his eyes lingering on Silje before he smiled widely.

"Allow me to introduce you, your majesty." Duncan started.

"No need to be so formal, Duncan! We'll be shedding blood together after all!" He smiled again and Silje laughed quietly. "Ho there, friends! It's nice to see some of the mages out from the tower and about." Xavier forced a smile, but inwardly seethed. Silje beamed with the attention.

"I can hardly believe I'm actually out here! I'd nearly given up hope!" she smiled brightly, and Xavier grimaced, glancing at Duncan. The Grey Warden's attention was focused solely on the King.

"What about you, our pointy-eared friend? Do you also feel the freedom of the open air?" Cailan meant it positively, but Xavier frowned.

"Ah yes. If my friend hadn't nearly killed me on his escape of the tower with blood magic, I'd be much happier. But currently, I am content with the fact that my head still resides upon my shoulders." He gave a small smile. "Thanks to Ser Duncan, of course."

Duncan gave him a look. "Your majesty, this is Xavier Surana, and Silje Amell. They are the new Grey Warden recruits I picked up at the Circle Tower on my way returning from Orzammar."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both. I'm sure your contributions to the force will be astounding." He had his eyes on Silje alone smiling happily, so the king didn't notice when the elf mage slipped away.

Xavier could hear still Duncan over his shoulder as he continued over the busted up bridge alone. Xavier paused midway over the bridge and looked down. Rocks, dirt, and other unpleasant things reminiscent of battle layered the ground far beneath the elf's feet. The redhead closed his eyes, letting the strong wind whip at his robes and ruffle his spiked blood-colored hair. His light blue eyes watered slightly in the biting wind, but he stood alone for another moment before finishing crossing the bridge and meeting another guard.

"You must be the new recruit." A voice made him pause, and Xavier noticed a guard, his features were mostly hidden beneath his helmet, but he was kind-faced, so Xavier stopped for directions.

"I am. Would you happen know which directions the Warden's encampments are?" The guard was more than happy to point the elf in the correct direction, though Xavier could feel the lingering suspicious gaze as he walked away. He cursed the robes as he walked, feeling the things getting tangled around his ankles. The fade-striders he'd come into were no better, made for walking inside on smooth stone, they were quickly being worn away by the exterior elements and rough rocks.

He hesitated at the edge of the tents around the Grey Warden's bonfire. The fire was surrounded by people talking and drinking as the light in the sky dimmed by the hour. He heard footsteps coming up behind him, and turned to look up, then continued... and finally stopped when his neck had a nice crick in it.

"Whoa." Xavier muttered under his breath as the giant looked down to look at him as well. The man was nearly eight feet tall, to Xavier's less than five and a half feet. He wore massive plate armor, and carried a greatsword, one big enough he could see the handle over the giant's shoulder. He had wild chin-length black hair, and was rather dark skinned with dark eyes.

"I hear you're one of the new recruits." he started. "A mage and an elf. You must have had to work hard." Xavier frowned, both of his main faults clearly out for everyone to see. His robes marked him, his ears marked him, and even his red hair marked him. All in different ways.

"I am." Xavier straightened, though his height wasn't improved any. "I am Xavier." The giant man smiled at him.

"Well met, Xavier. I think you'll find yourself with great luck in this lot. I am Belson." He offered his hand, and Xavier shook it, though his smaller hand was nearly engulfed. "I am one of the more senior wardens. Have you met the others yet?" Xavier shook his head. "Yeah, a couple dwarves arrived two days ago, with a Dalish elf, and before that, a city elf from the city of Denerim." He paused, and scratched his stubble-covered chin. "I feel like I'm missing one." The giant muttered. A large, gauntleted hand clasped onto Belson's shoulder, and a smaller human came up beside him.

"That would be me. I can't believe you forgot about me, Belson, I'm terribly insulted. And after all the sparring matches you beat me up in too." The human with the noble accent wore medium chainmail, as well as a sword on his back. He turned to Xavier, bowing slightly to the elf. "My name is Rowan Cousland- I'm one of your fellow recruits."

"Well met." Xavier bowed in return.

"Belson, have you seen Alistair around?" The giant pointed vaguely off into the distance.

"He went to fetch someone. I'll be over with the others." Belson trudged off, and pulling out a flask and drinking heavily from it.

"Come with me and help me find Alistair real quick, I'm sure he'd be glad to meet you." Rowan walked off whistling without looking back to check if he was being followed, and Xavier felt obliged to follow the insufferably cheerful man, though his robes kept getting tangled. He stumbled, and cursed Irving. Just because it was probably Irving's fault they were too big.

"You know," Rowan commented, after his fourth near-fall, "I've never really understood the need for those robes. Aren't they hard to fight in?" Rowan asked. The noble glanced over his shoulder at him, and Xavier nodded once, though raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"They're not made for easy mobility. I hate them. They're annoying. Just like this oversized walking stick. Though I doubt that anyone thought of the difficulties of a fighting mage when they made these. If nothing else, it's to make us easier to catch and kill for the Templars." Xavier sighed. Rowan nodded grimly, changing the subject quickly.

"So you probably don't have supplies, since you were traveling with Duncan since you left the tower, then." Rowan said with a laugh. The elf nodded. "We'll make a stop at the Quartermaster's before finding Alistair then." Rowan led the elf through the camp grounds, passing several different areas, the ash warrior' camp, the kennels, and passing by the mage's tents before reaching the smith's place. Rowan examined his armor for things in need of repair while Xavier got the attention of the smith. He cleared his throat.

"Excuse me-" He began, only to be interrupted by a grunt and a clang of metal as the smith shifted around his stock of weaponry.

"You there, elf! Where's my armor, and why are you dressed so preposterously?" The quarter master asked over his shoulder with a glance.

"If you cared to notice, you would realize that I am not your servant." Xavier's tone was patronizing. The quartermaster straightened, and his eyes raked over the elven mage before he apologized profusely for the mistake. "I want to buy some supplies. What do you have?" The quartermaster made a face, before turning to his stockpile and rummaging through it. After Xavier secured a dagger and some heavier boots, and he bought the quartermaster's entire supply of poultices and lyrium potions with a proper leather pouch, before he discarded his older boots. Rowan examined the thin leather foot-coverings with interest.

"You actually wore these all the way here?" He asked, lifting one and tearing the leather completely as he attempted to stretch it. The quartermaster gave him an annoyed look, but they both ignored him. Xavier looked over from where he was packing the vials of fluid into his pack.

"Yes I did. Seeing as I was not barefoot the entire way." Rowan shook his head in amazement.

"You must be nearly skin and bones to have not worn a hole right though these. Do they not feed you at the tower?" He asked, "Because I'm sure there's a rule against that somewhere..."

"There isn't, and I am perfectly healthy. And-" The elf protested and rolled his eyes at the human's laughing ones, abandoning his protests. "I'm just extremely light on my feet. And... they were magically preserved." He admitted.

"Enchanted shoes? Is there anything you mages don't have?" He laughed.

"Well there is one thing in short supply..." Xavier trailed off, his face and voice taking on a serious and grave tone. "Pants. Honestly, the Mages, the Templars! They all like skirts! It's slightly worrying, for sure." The redhead sighed dramatically, though it was unheard over Rowan's booming laughter.

The two came upon a senior mage and a soldier in splintmail arguing. "And here I was going to name my kid after you. The grumpy one." The solder snorted, and the Mage hissed something at him before stiffly turning and stalking away. The mage knocked into Xavier on the way by, muttering to himself about young ignorance and disrespect.

"It's great how the Blight brings people together." The soldier, that Xavier surmised had to be Alistair, said.

"What a terrible thing to say, Alistair." Rowan chided the blonde jokingly. He merely laughed it off.

"You're not the first to say that, Rowan. So this is the new recruit? Duncan said your skills were quite impressive." Alistair didn't look quite impressed though. Xavier could tell that the blonde was a Templar from his demeanor, and his supply of mana. Most likely ex-templar now though in his current situation.

"Yes. Though I highly doubt that great Ser Duncan's letter would have mentioned me. He was probably referring to the other recruit mage we traveled here with. Silje Amell. Her skills are much more admirable than mine." Xavier smiled tightly, and Alistair's face faltered. "Oh! He must not have sent word that there were two of us. My name is Xavier." He offered his hand, and Alistair reluctantly shook it, to proud to back down from the barely-there challenge.

Rowan looked between the two, opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it and absently stroking his stubble instead. "Duncan wanted to speak with you, since the new recruits are here. I'm going to go and fetch Ser Jory and Daveth. Alistair, take Xavier back to the Warden's encampment."

Alistair gave Rowan a scathing look, but Rowan was already walking away, whistling that insufferable happy tune again. Xavier started walking away before Alistair, so the blonde had no other choice than to jog slightly to catch up, lest he be caught following a mage around. And how in the world did an elf walk so quickly? What about their short legs? "I didn't know that the Templars let their charges walk free, Alistair." The elf said casually. "It must be nice to be off that leash, right?" Alistair glared silently. "You are obviously a Templar, right? You just didn't finish officially?" Xavier gave him a sideways glance. The elf could sense no lyrium dependency in the splintmail-clad soldier. Alistair couldn't tell if the elf was mocking him, or just asking him simple questions.

"You are correct. I have all the training, I just didn't take my vows." Alistair stared decidedly straight ahead, so he didn't notice the young robed woman approaching them from a side path.

"You're lucky then." Alistair whipped his head to the side, incredulous. Xavier raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What? You have all the perks of the job without the downside." Alistair went to protest or question, but the two were met by a young woman. Alistair was struck with her pretty face with barely past the shoulder-length long black hair, and soft, lightly burned skin, until he finally realized she was wearing the robes marking her as a mage out of the tower. He felt a pang, hearing the echoes of the preaching that specifically warned against mages. Silje grabbed onto Xavier, shaking him roughly, though the elf kept smiling that tiny, annoyed smile through the ordeal.

Alistair caught something in her string of words that sounded like 'worrying about the tiny mage' and being 'lost with no help'. The woman's hair had a two braids hanging in the front on the opposing sides, with two more braids connecting in the back, with beautiful flowers interwoven into the connecting braid, ones that matched her red and brown robes. Xavier managed to extract himself from her grasp, and was now leading her to the camp on his own. Alistair scoffed. The ridiculous elf hadn't needed a guide in the first place! The blonde turned and stomped off to take the shorter route to the Warden's camp, just because he could because he knew where it was. So ha, he thought at the mage as he stomped.

"Silje! What are you doing?" Xavier finally asked. His face was reddened from the rush of blood returning to his face after Silje nearly suffocated him. The black-haired woman was nearly in hysterics, her hair astray, and her burnt face seeming to burn with heat even from the distance they were apart.

"I could find you and then I was worried when I saw the Templars because I know you don't like them much and then I saw all of the huge men in armor and I got lost after I talked to one of them and forgot which way I came from." She took a breath, and then sagged slightly. "There are so many people here. And I didn't read books like you. I don't understand any of this military stuff. I only know how to heal people and break things..!" She broke off at the end, looking depressed, and Xavier patted her head understandingly. She swatted his hand away.

"And yet you're the only one in the tower as adept at healing as you are." She looked up from his shoulder, and he smiled. "I know you faked it in class. You settle for mediocre when your skill could surpass the teacher's. Irving knew this, the insufferable cod, and sent you out into the real world so you could show everyone else. Be happy he believes in you." He removed her hands from his robe, and then motioned in the direction of camp. "Your knowledge will be useful in the long-run. Mine is only useful for battle. Be happy." He repeated, and then led the way to the camp. Silje wiped at her eyes, waving to Senior Enchanter Wynne as they passed her at the Circle mage's encampment.

Belson waved at the two of them as they entered the tented area where the Grey Wardens were camping. As Xavier went to cross to speak to Belson, when a young blonde elven woman stepped in front of them. She wore chain mail and had a multitude of braids in her chin-length cherry-blonde hair, the light green of her eyes catching in the bonfire's light, her intricate facial tattoo was barely visible in the dim lighting conditions. She looked them both over, before frowning.

"I heard that mages were nothing but unstoppable machines, intent upon death and suffering, whispering to demons in corners and cursing small children. Though I also heard that they were useless without magic, like a fishing pole with no line." Xavier glared at her, and Silje straightened slightly as the young woman's eyes pierced her as well, calculating. Xavier pushed Silje to the side and away from the two as he ducked the woman's kick, the dirt grinding into his knees as he hit the ground.

He swiped at the woman's ankle with his hand, and yanked, making her lose balance and do a backward roll to catch herself. She kicked out at his chest, knocking him on his back and into the hard dust. He lost his breath, but managed to roll to side to avoid her fast punch to the face. He caught a small glimpse of Duncan's bemused face as he rolled to his feet, out of the way of another sweeping kick. She managed to make him stumble when she caught the tip of his foot with her sweep. She swiped out at his face with her fists, forcing him back as he stumbled again over his robes. He barely dodged to the side, her knuckles catching his shoulder and grabbed her wrist on its by. His other hand latched out and grabbed her elbow, and he stamped on her foot before he spun her and twisted her arm behind her back, pressing her to the ground with his knee, and holding her head down with his other hand.

He was panting heavily, from the amount of exertion after years out of actual fights. The practice he'd done in the tower wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. The sit-ups done on the dormitory beds wasn't enough, the push-ups done regularly before and after lessons weren't enough. He pushed the woman forward, letting her go before he heard it. Clapping. A gathered circle of soldiers and Wardens had surrounded the two, and they cheered for the fight's result. He didn't bother to look up, offering his hand to the disgruntled woman before hefting her up to her feet.

"It seems that you might have heard wrong." He stated, even as he wiped the gathering sweat from his forehead. "A fishing pole with no line can still be a spear." He rasped, his breath hard to catch from the kick to the chest. She eyed him carefully before holding out a hand to shake. He clasped it firmly, and smiled in return.

"It seems that I did." She shook her hand out, popping the bones loudly. "My name is Artemis Tabris. A fellow recruit." She glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. He did as well, squinting as he took in the figure of an enraged Amell charging toward the two of them, followed by Duncan and Alistair, as well as a small crowd of others. "I must apologize for attacking you, but I wouldn't have broken anything, even if you weren't skilled." Artemis took the opportunity to slip away, and Xavier raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but shook his head at her as Silje reached him, her hands fluttering over him, before settling on his aching chest with both of her hands, as they radiated cool white light. Xavier hissed slightly in discomfort, but stayed still.

"What in the world were you thinking! Of all the things. Really, Xavier, if I weren't around you'd be in pain for days." She removed her hands from his chest and put them on either side of her hips. Xavier thanked her as Duncan approached. "But really, you are such a pain yourself," she muttered, and ignored his glare.

The group of Grey Warden recruits gathered around the bonfire around Duncan, who called them to attention for their next task. Rowan had his arms crossed on his chest, mimicking Alistair from behind. There were also two dwarves and another elf with Dalish armor and blood tattoos covering his entire face came in the back, his face pale even in the dim light. Two humans hovered near the back, one in duster leather and another in chain mail. Duncan addressed all of them when he turned his back to the huge bonfire.

"Tomorrow you will go into the Korcari wilds. You are to gather a vial of darkspawn blood for every recruit, to be used in the Joining ritual." Duncan's voice was serious, and Rowan stopped mimicking Alistair behind the his back to listen.

"This ritual seems kinda sketchy. Do we get any details before we go through this?" The human in duster leather asked.

"The ritual is the induction into the Grey Wardens. We know that we have to go through it to become one, so why do the details matter, Daveth?" A deep reverberating voice came from the male dwarf. The one named Daveth grimaced and looked at his boots, kicking stones irritatingly.

"You will also need to use this map to find a chest in the long-lost warden-built tower in the wilds. Inside it are ancient documents we will need to collect." Duncan continued after Daveth was silent. Duncan nodded, and passed a map to Alistair.

"Since I am the Junior warden, I will be accompanying you into the wilds." Alistair picked up where Duncan left off.

"Do we really need you with us?" Artemis asked sullenly. Alistair frowned at her, and Duncan intervened.

"Yes. Because Alistair will be able to tell where the darkspawn are in the wilds, so you aren't ambushed and killed." He deadpanned. Artemis scowled at him, but remained silent. Duncan finished with a slightly encouraging lecture, one that made Xavier start to yawn, despite his best attempts to hold it off. Duncan smiled slightly, before dismissing them to their tents.

The dwarf, Farrent, was tasked with leading the mages to their new tents. Silje disappeared into her tent under the flap, and Xavier thanked Farrent and turned to do the same. The dwarf cleared his throat, and Xavier glanced back over his shoulder, waiting for him to speak. "You know, Artie really doesn't have anything against mages, she just likes to test people." Farrent scratched at his beard, tugging on one of his many braids. "To find their true nature, I think."

"I thought as much." Xavier smiled at the dwarf, whose smallish brown eyes were flecked with mischief.

"You really held your own against the elven lass, Red. Glad to know that mages aren't just for show." Xavier lifted his chin, before smiling a half smile.

"It's Xavier. And that was nothing. I'd like to see your reaction to actual magic. I doubt you've seen much, as a dwarf. Or any, if your opinion is that mages are for show." The branded tattoo on his cheekbone twitched as Farrent smiled.

"Well. I doubt you'll be able to handle the ferocity of my axe tomorrow. I'll be cutting 'em down 'fore you even get your walking stick out to poke 'em with." Xavier scoffed in disbelief.

"I know that I'll kill more of them than you, and I'll only have my 'walking stick' as you so helpfully put it."

"I'll take you up on that challenge. 'Night, Red." Farrent walked to his own tent and went inside before Xavier took a deep breath and fell onto his own sleeping roll in exhaustion.


	2. Where the faded path leads

A/N- Just as an Fyi there will be blood magic here, and slight grilling of enemies.

Edit: went on an editing spree, so most mistakes fixed.

I don't own Dragon age, just crazy elves and angsty characters.

His dreams were plagued with monsters, as always. A desire demon had caught him unaware once and shifted through his memories before he had the chance to retaliate, and the experience had left him with no desire to repeat it. As a child, you don't want some crazy, fire headed naked woman prowling through your memories. He had quickly sought out how to combat such things, and had become stronger because of it. Yet, the demons of the fade always scratched and wore away at his ever-regenerating will, looking for a way out through him. He'd long since learned to silence the screams and stop the thrashing, lest he wake with a Templar's sword to his throat. Or not wake up at all, the most probable thing with the ever impulsive, mage-hating Templars.

Opening his eyes, he saw the roof of an unfamiliar canvas tent. For a moment, he scrabbled around for a weapon, before gripping the hilt of his thin, double-sided dagger. Xavier clutched it to his chest, thoughts panicking at the unfamiliar place. Where normally, wooden bunks and stone walls would surround him, along with the white noise of the breathing of a dormitory full of apprentice mages, he was alone, surrounded by canvas. The quiet murmur of unfamiliar voices outside caught his attention, and he froze in fear, before understanding washed over him. He was in the Wardens' camp because he'd been conscripted. He tossed his dagger to the side before running his hands through his hair in agitation. He quickly strapped his boots on and tucked the dagger into his leather belt before exiting the tent. He quickly unassembled it and folded the canvas, before rolling the bedroll and fastening it as well. He snapped his staff up and spun it twice before settling it in its strap.

The sun hadn't risen by the time he was finished, so he sought solace by the roaring fire in the center of the warden's encampment. Xavier sat on an empty log with no one close by, and put his elbows on his knees, resting his head on the palms of his hands. He saw Alistair conversing with Duncan, Belson, and the other senior Grey Wardens. He averted his eyes to the warm flickering flames, letting them close sleepily. He stretched his awareness, feeling for the entire camp. Most were still asleep, for it was an over an hour before sunrise, and the soldiers sought all the rest they could before battle.

Xavier thought it over, and decided he didn't mind awaiting battle. He didn't mind the palpable tension people got before they faced something deadly. The slight fear on their faces when they spoke of the darkspawn. After years of nothingness in the tower, he was finally out and 'properly' learned in magic. With his two parallel educations, even the death and destruction that waited in battle was better than the tower, in his opinion.

In the surrounding tents were his new comrades, and he reached out and checked their health, out of habit from the tower. He didn't know how to heal well, but he knew how to sense ailments. There was a weird nagging sense of death lingering over the elf with the white-blonde hair that he'd seen last night, that he had overheard Artemis call Theo. He frowned, so distracted with the new type of deathly illness that he didn't realize Alistair had approached until the light from the fire was blocked from his eyelids. Xavier wearily dragged himself back together from his spread out and observing state, and cracked an eye open. The ex-Templar had merely paused, and now sat on a log besides the mage. Xavier looked back to the fire before closing his eyes again. Alistair cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching at something under his armor, making it jingle annoyingly. After that, there was a short minute of silence, before the Templar started tapping his foot on the ground. Xavier's brow furrowed, and he gave up trying to ignore the ex-Templar.

"Did you come over here for something specific?" Xavier asked. "Or did you just feel like sitting by the lone mage instead of your friends?" Alistair resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the elf's tone.

"Well, I wanted to ask..." Xavier opened one eye to see him fidgeting with a round golden piece. "How did you know I was a Templar? I mean… are a Templar." he said nervously, "I was curious, because nobody except...Duncan knows."

"Your excess mana. The type of energy reserved for templar-ish attacks, feels different than arcane-used mana." Xavier unfurled and stretched. "You're obviously not a mage or an abomination, so you must have been a Templar. Ta-da. Xavier logic." He finished with a flick of the fingers. Alistair blinked blandly at the elf, disbelieving.

"You can tell... mana apart? I didn't know that was possible." It shouldn't be, he added in his head, and Alistair looked at the elf more closely before frowning slightly under the elf's light eyes. "Didn't you sleep? The circles under your eyes are huge." Xavier gave the blonde a slight glare, before scratching his neck and squinting at the sky, the sunrise making the sky a myriad of colors.

"I did sleep." He finally said. Alistair's look was incredulous, but was ignored. "Where's the food? I'm hungry." Xavier changed the subject as Rowan and Farrent both exited their tents. Xavier walked off in search of sustenance as the warriors walked to Alistair, the mage waving quickly at the two.

"That the mage? Where's 'e goin'?" Farrent asked, and looked into the direction the mage had disappeared to. Alistair shrugged noncommittally.

"He said something about food before he left, so he'll probably be looking for the cook's tent." Alistair pocketed a thin gold piece, and Rowan sat heavily in the spot Xavier had just vacated.

"I know you don't like mages, but you could seriously try to hide it better." Rowan yawned, and Alistair punched him in the arm. Rowan shrugged it off.

"You know that's not it. I don't hate mages, it's just that-" He stopped, trailing off as the others looked away as well. Silje was stretching, her butt up in the air as she stretched her legs. Alistair's cheeks were dusted light pink, before he stormed off to chase away a couple of staring soldiers from the naïve mage. And Daveth, the leering ass. Rowan laughed at the Templar's antics, before going off for food as well. Farrent stayed long enough to wave at Artemis as she emerged from her tent as the sun finally peaked above the horizon line far enough to be seen, then hurried off to eat as well.

The large group of warden recruits, plus Alistair, entered the Korcari wilds when the sun was above the horizon and the sky was fully blue, unperturbed by clouds. Xavier had allowed himself to be pushed to the back of the group, along with Isiah, Daveth and Silje, who could all be long-range fighters. At the front, Alistair and Rowan led, both sporting shields and longswords, flanked by Farrent who was carrying his double-sided sword, and Artemis who was whistling while twirling her wicked-looking elven short sword, her longsword happily strapped to her back. Ser Jory-a knight from Redcliffe, wielding a semi-rusted greatsword, and Theo-the sickly-looking elf covering the mages for close combat, though Xavier had repeatedly said it was unnecessary, he was ignored by Alistair.

Silje, on his right, was busy collecting herbs and searching for a wild flower for the kennel master, and concentrating so hard on the landscape that Xavier couldn't start a conversation with her, she was so absorbed in her task. Xavier looked to his left, to see Theo coughing into his hand again, before grimacing as he wiped it on his cloth pants and glancing up to see Xavier's scrutiny. The Dalish elf stared back, challengingly, though Xavier didn't look away, instead regarding him blankly. Coughing like that wasn't something natural that would be ignored, but the mage filed it away for later. Theo finally glanced away. Xavier turned his attention back forward, before raising his voice. A struggling man was trying to stand, the only one alive from the group of corpses strewn around.

"There's a live one." His statement was met with confusion, but as Silje broke formation and ran to the injured man, realization struck. The others hurried to help, but Silje ignored them. The soldier struggled to lift his head, instead falling back onto his stomach with a grunt, heaving dry air. Silje murmured calming words to him to make him still, and placed glowing hands over the injured areas. Silje stopped the immediate bleeding, and Alistair offered his bandages, the female mage quickly taking them and wrapping the chest wound tightly, before tying it off. The man was babbling about how his entire group had been annihilated by the darkspawn that had come from deeper inside the wilds. His skin was deathly pale, from loss of blood, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"We should take him back to camp." Silje looked to Xavier for assistance, who stood some feet away. The soldier took an offered poultice, and shook his head at the offer.

"I'll be fine. Now, at least, I can make it back on my own." The soldier limped away quickly, and Ser Jory turned to Rowan.

"You heard the man. An entire platoon of soldiers was destroyed by those things! I think this is too risky. Why are going through the trouble for this ritual anyway?"

"These soldiers didn't have a Grey Warden with them, and were probably ambushed." Alistair reasoned, "I can sense the Darkspawn, so they won't be able to come upon us in surprise." Alistair tried to calm the knight down, but failed considerably, especially when Daveth added in his two pieces.

"See, Ser knight? At least we'll get a warning before we're all gruesomely killed or disemboweled. Doesn't that make you feel better?" Ser Jory was not amused, glaring at the cutpurse. Xavier glanced in farther to the wilds, squinting. Alistair didn't comment.

"I'd rather we get moving sooner than later, you two, if you're finished arguing. You want to be Grey Wardens, so suck it up, and let's gather some darkspawn blood." Farrent growled at them, agitated, before Xavier walked off, ahead of the group.

"Hey! Don't break formation! You'll be killed before you even know they're there!" Alistair yelled after the mage, but made no hurry to follow. The elf merely shot a disdainful look back at Alistair over his shoulder, before continuing. The group moved again, Xavier slightly farther ahead, with Farrent close behind, and the rest in a loose resemblance of the former formation. They walked for a time before the rustling of far-off dry branches and breaking of underbrush was heard.

"Wolves!" Theo shouted, the wolf pack bursting from the underbrush from either side, before he and Isiah let loose a barrage of arrows on the pack. Xavier ducked from a wolf that aimed at his jugular, slashing his dagger into the underside of another that jumped at him from behind. The first he disposed of using lightning, before slitting the dazed wolf's throat. On impulse, he used chain lightning, finishing off the rest in one shot, before stopping and grimacing at the blood on his dagger, bending down to wipe it on the dry grass.

Farrent whistled, even as Alistair gaped at the carnage surrounding the elf. The pack of wolves had been annihilated before he could lift his sword twice. Artemis looked irritated, and reluctantly sheathed her swords, but still on guard, as though hoping that more wolves would appear to give her another chance to fight. Silje looked shocked, and stared at the blood covering the ground. The arrows protruding from the vital points of their targets were collected calmly by Isiah and Daveth, Theo resting upon a large boulder on the side of the path, out of breath.

"Is everyone alright?" Xavier looked over the group, the unanimous nods reassuring the redhead. Alistair merely grunted in annoyance. "Great. Cause we've got some blood to collect."

As the group later encountered darkspawn stragglers, they gathered vials of blood, until Alistair finally announced they had enough, allowing them to temporarily rest in an abandoned camp, deep within the wilds. Daveth sighed dramatically, throwing his arms over Theo and Artemis' shoulders. Both elves looked ready to hit him. "I'm beat. Who knew fighting the terrible rejects of nature could be so energy consuming?" Rowan rolled his eyes at the cutpurse before taking in the rest of the group.

Alistair was tired, but none the worse for wear, thanks to Silje, who healed everyone as they went along, while also staying out of the way and safe, at Xavier's command. Theo had slowly been getting worse, his face ashen behind his natural Dalish hunter tan, his lightly colored hair even seeming lifeless. Farrent was arguing with Ser Jory, his axe perched on his shoulder, his armor dented and his tattooed cheekbone bruised, but fine. Rowan finally looked at the mage sitting beside him, leaning his weight onto his staff. The redhead was scratched and bruised, but kept turning Silje away. To have her tend to the more injured members of the party, like when Alistair had had his shield arm's wrist broken from blocking an emissary and a hurlock grunt at the same time, or like the time Daveth had caught fire and had to have his minor burns treated so they could continue on. Xavier's robes were torn and bloody, though how much of it was his was unclear. His small dagger resting on his hip as he asked Isiah about her training and accuracy with a bow. Rowan himself was protected mostly by armor, escaping serious damage, though several arrows had tested the durability of the set. And Silje had had to reknit the skin of his left arm after an arrow tipped with poison had pierced the chain link there, and then fought the poison. Rowan felt for the failed chain pieces, and decided that the armor wasn't worth repairing.

Xavier turned to Rowan, who was brooding over the thought of new armor. "We still need to pick up the ancient treaties Duncan wanted. Does Alistair still have the map?" Rowan blinked, before nodding. The elf closed his eyes briefly in agitation before walking to the splint mail-clad man. Rowan frowned before motioning to Silje, and the mage quickly crossed from where she sat near Artemis and Theo.

"Xavier has a limp. It's very subtle, but he's hiding a more serious injury." Rowan pointed out. Silje nodded, but shrugged, looking downcast.

"He won't let me heal him. We'll either have to wait until he's hurt badly enough he can't escape treatment, or practically hold him down." She glared at the elf's back. "He won't let me near him, saying 'Save your mana.' or, 'It's just a scratch.'" she mocked, using a low and nasally voice that didn't sound anything like the mage but was funny nonetheless, "It's infuriating." Rowan nodded, noting that Xavier had a lot of 'scratches' that the poultices weren't fully healing.

Alistair looked up to see Xavier crossing towards him. The elf looked like hell, though it was mostly mud. Xavier leaned on his staff, and Alistair waited for him to speak first. "Rowan said you have the map. I want to see it." Alistair reached inside his armor, handing the elf the crushed old scroll of paper. Xavier frowned, squinting. "This is totally worthless." Xavier deadpanned. Alistair squawked.

"Duncan gave us that map, so it has to be helpful!" Alistair protested, standing.

"Oh, I'm sure it was helpful when Duncan gave it to us, but you've smeared whatever seeped inside your armor all over it." The frustrated elf threw the map at Alistair, who caught it and smiled sheepishly.

"It's just a little blood, nothing a little magic couldn't solve?" Alistair looked hopefully in to the two mages. Xavier rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Rowan shook his head, the others stifling giggles and smirks.

"The mage-aphobic chantry boy asks for blood manipulation, and so he shall receive." Xavier smiled cruelly, before snapping up the map from the ex-Templar. Alistair looked stricken, and even Silje looked pale. Xavier glanced up with a wry grin. "Just kidding. Really, you people have no faith in mages, do you?" Alistair glared at the elf, who just laughed it off. "But really, this map is worthless." He gave Alistair a look.

"So then what do we do?" Artemis asked, glaring at Alistair. The others looked to him as well, and Xavier looked up, his eyes mocking the Templar. Alistair looked around, the expectant stares making him sweat.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Alistair asked, looking at Rowan. "I don't know what to do!" He insisted.

"I suggest we follow the map, just go in the general direction we were heading in." Theo added, then broke into a coughing fit.

"I agree with the elf." Ser Jory said gruffly, and the group started on again, Rowan teasing Alistair about his leadership skills.

Xavier followed close behind Theo, who was almost unnoticeably lagging behind the rest of the main group, a good few paces behind. Xavier said nothing, even as the Dalish elf gave him a curious look. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the jingle of armor and the soft thuds of feet on swamp-soaked earth. Alistair shouted a warning only a couple seconds before the darkspawn burst from the ground, a group of genlocks and a hurlock blocking Xavier and Theo from the main group. Xavier couldn't see how the others were doing, but there were a lot of enemies on their side as well, the supporting archers being far away on hills. The templar had even said that he'd be able to warn them about an ambush, but the threat was the same.

Xavier cursed as he dodged the sword of a hurlock, only to jump into the way of a genlock's pair of daggers. He barely managed to avoid getting his spine severed by kicking back at the genlock, then twisting his staff around and hearing a satisfying crack. He hissed as the shallow cuts from the daggers made themselves known, but ignored it in favor of frying the near group of darkspawn until they were nothing more than a bubbling mass of flesh and bones. He turned to try and help Theo, only to be bashed in the ribcage by a genlock with a mace that unearthed itself from the filthy ground. The hurlock assaulting Theo was disposed of with a crack and a gurgle, before Xavier heard a grunted elven curse. Xavier kicked out at the genlock with the mace, knocking it over before he smashed the butt of his staff through it's skull. He felt the abused metal of the staff protest, starting to bend, but ignored it. He clutched his abdomen and fired lightning at the hurlock about to stab Theo in the gut, making it hesitate with electrocution as he used his staff to knock the sword away, before sending the sharp end of his staff through the hurlock's abdomen and using more lightning to fry it from the inside, jerking it back as he kicked the creature off his weapon.

The other group was fine, regrouping after being separated to take care of long-range enemies, with little injuries. Xavier dropped his staff to kneel beside Theo, who lay barely breathing on his back, his face taking on a deathly pallor. "Theo. Theo!" Xavier shook the other elf, who strained to open his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins taking on a blackened shade. "The taint? How long have you had it?" He demanded. The Dalish elf shrugged.

"A few weeks. I don't...really know." The elf's eyes closed again in pain, and Xavier grunted in acknowledgement as he heard the others running up to them. Xavier turned to Silje, and gave her a serious look, only made more intense by the blood staining his face and body, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Watch my body for me." Silje nodded hesitantly, moving to his side and taking Theo's hand. Her eyes showed slight confusion, but more than anything else, trust. Xavier nodded, and reached to the wound on his back, pulling his hand back with fresh blood, before quickly writing in foreign script on Theo's forehead. He wiped his hands together as the others caught up, before resting his hand on Theo's chest, above the elf's heart. He barely heard Alistair's accusing questions as he plunged soul-first into the fade to find the source of the taint.

The first thing Alistair had expected to see when returning back to the two elves was Xavier standing over a mountain of fresh darkspawn corpses, Theo standing beside him. When he saw the fried corpses, he was oddly reassured. He saw Xavier drawing with blood on a nearly dead Theo's forehead, before Xavier himself toppled limply sideways e rushed to the healer's side, his Templar instincts kicking in at the sign of blood ma. Silje was already busy, telling Artemis to hold Theo's hand, and making Rowan prop up the prone form of Xavier as she tore off the top piece to his robes, using the elf's own dagger to cut the chest area of the shirt off, leaving the tattered sleeves on to save time. Alistair understood better when the gash across the elf's back was exposed, bleeding steadily. He stood nearby, agitated he could do nothing, with Ser Jory, who looked uncomfortable with all the blood.

"Why are you so jumpy, Ser Jory?" Alistair asked, eager to get his mind off of the blatant blood magic.

"Killing those creatures is different. They are heartless, driven by instinct to kill everything. But seeing one of our own bleeding out like that...it's an unpleasant reminder of what they're capable of." Jory turned away, volunteering to keep watch. Daveth announced he was going to collect firewood, but Alistair was entranced by the mage's steady hands as she worked the two injured elves away from death's grasp. Silje was pushing her limits, almost out of mana and still working on the seeping gash. Alistair squinted at the descending sun, cursing their luck. There had been more darkspawn than Duncan himself knew of, hiding in the wilds. And they were without the map, which had hopefully led them deeper into the wilds, presumably closer to the ancient treaties, instead of in them going in circles all day long, and getting who-knew how far away from the king's army.

Rowan had laid Xavier down on his stomach, on a blanket from his own pack. Theo was moved to the same blanket, with Artemis still beside him, and Silje now poured poultices straight into their many cuts. She hesitated before applying the poultice to Xavier's back, even though it had healed enough to no longer bleed. Alistair watched over her shoulder as the skin knit back together, leaving nothing but a dark red line of new skin. Rowan assisted her by holding the skin together, his brow furrowed in concentration, from the effort of being gentle, as opposed to slashing and cutting and destroying. Isiah and Farrent looked on; the larger male dwarf's face cold and blank. Isiah pulled bandages from her pack, and Silje took them numbly, patting Xavier's sides before frowning and repeating the process. She wrapped nearly his entire torso, with padding on his back wound to prevent the new scar tissue from reopening. The intense bruising left on his side was darkening further, no doubt a few broken ribs, Silje had said. Isiah met Daveth as he returned with his arms full of dry wood. The two worked to create a fire, building it as close to the injured party members as they safely could. Alistair could hardly remember being told to set up blankets for people to sleep on. They ate jerky around the fire, Silje sitting beside the prone figures of the elves, and the somber faces of the rest of his comrades as they conversed quietly or stared into the flames (Farrent).

They went to sleep, dozing off in a circle around the fire. Alistair volunteered to take watch, and he sat by the injured elves, watching for signs of awareness in either of them. There was none. The ex-Templar looked at Silje's sleeping face carefully, tracing the lines of her distressed face with his eyes. Her eyebrows were still furrowed, her forehead scrunched. She had moved her bedroll right next to Xavier and Theo, who were both covered by another blanket, seeing as they couldn't be aware enough to shift and preserve their own body heat as the temperature fell.

Rowan kept watch on the other side of the fire, sitting in a meditative position near the slumbering dwarf and the cutpurse. Alistair stood, his splintmail jostling as he moved to where the other warrior was resting. Rowan turned as Alistair sat beside him.

"I specifically said I would be able to keep us from getting ambushed, and I failed." Alistair sat next to him, "I don't understand how I didn't sense such a large group." The ex-Templar pulled out his runic worry piece, needing something to do. He gave Rowan a sideways glance. "They could both die from this attack." He didn't say it, but the unspoken words 'because of me' rang loudly in Alistair's mind.

"But they won't." Rowan assured him. "Xavier must know what he's doing, or he wouldn't have attempted it, especially with you here. And Silje knows how to fix people. They will both do their parts, and everyone will live through this. Then we'll do this Joining ritual, and become Grey Wardens." Alistair looked away, afraid of showing his friend the sad truth. The fact that it wasn't guaranteed that they would all live through the Joining.

Xavier sat up slowly, ignoring the pounding in his head as he examined the part of the fade-place he had landed in. This part was supposed to reflect Theo's soul, and become like a physical thing so that Xavier could stop the spread of and contain the darkspawn's taint.

All he could see was trees. More trees, and finally, some more trees. Xavier looked down, confirming that he was still an elf, not some woodland creature. He willed his clothing into being, noticing with indignation that he was, in fact, au naturale, or nude. He willed a tunic, with pants tucked into tall boots into being, before making his way deeper into the forest.

The trees weren't natural, though the area Xavier had started in had looked normal. The trees got taller and taller, until the tops were no longer visible, and long beams of sunlight were the only thing to light the mage's path. Where the trees started to turn beautiful, with golden and silver hues, shining prettily even in the lack of sunlight. Xavier rested a hand on the trunk of a golden tree, and felt warmth radiate through him, even in the dark. He snatched his hand back, suspicious, before resting it on a silver tree, having the same result. The redhead relaxed, seeing the effect was most likely a natural effect of the forest. Pausing as he stared at a faraway point of light, he almost willed a weapon into being. The light seemed to bounce, going from tree to tree before finally stopping on the golden tree Xavier had paused by. The light condensed, taking on the form of a small white bird. Xavier stared at it, and its small beady glowing eyes watched him as well. He cocked his head to the side, and the bird did the same. Xavier wiggled his fingers at it, pulling them back as the little thing tried to peck at them. He tried to poke it, and had the same result. He decided that ignoring it would probably be the most productive thing to do. He turned from it and continued into the forest, in the direction the bird had come from, hoping that he would find a source that the bird had come from.

Rather than a source, the farther he went towards the bird's original direction, the more he felt hopeless; the trees getting closer and closer together until he was literally pushing and tearing branches apart and climbing over thick fallen twigs from the dead trees around him. Their trunks were grey and rotting, shriveled and gnarled, death seeming to seep from their cores. The single point of light came from the bird that had settled on his shoulder, tiny claws sinking into his tunic and scratching him. Xavier cursed as he finally tripped and fell onto his chest. His eyes protested from the sharp change in light, and he blinked rapidly, feeling the bird fly away, the tiny claws gone. When he opened his eyes again, there was a hand offering to help him up.

Theo smiled widely, and Xavier took the Dalish elf's hand, being pulled to his feet quickly. The blonde elf was different, Xavier decided, and it only took him a moment to notice why. Theo's face was tanned and vibrant again, in sharp contrast to the deadened clearing they were in, as well as he wasn't thin and sickly, the muscles visible from around his Dalish leather armor looking as though he was energized, like he had just come back from a successful hunt. "I am glad to see you, lethallin. I am happy to spend my last moments with one of your caliber. The proud can never find this place, as you often have to stumble and fall to understand truth." Xavier blinked in confusion, the frowned. Theo's happy demeanor vanished with the frown.

"I will not let you die." Xavier promised, turning from the older elf, scanning the clearing. "Not like this." There was nothing largely noticeable, just the Dalish elf. Xavier backed away from him. "Why are you suddenly here? There is usually a representative of a person's soul, instead of the actual person."

Theo frowned. "Why would there be some odd creature when I'm the one who knows myself best?" The elf stated. "'I am my own enemy'. I know my weaknesses, and I know my strengths, so I have overcome my subconscious, becoming my own keeper." The Dalish elf said it as one would declare their own death sentence. Xavier shook his head in amazement.

"Remind me later to ask how you did that. We have to find the source of your darkspawn taint." The mage took Theo's surprised face in his hands, his thumb nails digging into the Dalish elf's cheekbones until two small pricks of blood appeared on his face. Xavier smeared the blood onto the elf's cheeks horizontally, using a nail to cut open the palm of his hand. Xavier let the blood drip onto the blackened and dying ground, until a small visible spot appeared. The blood started to smoke, before it sparked, and like a snake, a line of blood-like fire shot away from the two. Xavier took off after the snake, Theo following him at a slower and unconcerned pace. Xavier pushed on, following closely on the Fyreblud snake's trail, as it burned its way through the underbrush, clearing a path as the brush and branches receded from it, burned. Theo slowly fell behind, until Xavier couldn't hear him anymore. The snake stopped, it's 'head' rearing up, before sinking into a tree, lighting up the trunk from the inside.

Xavier stopped running in awe. The tree was enormous, wider than Xavier could see from so close. The trunk was blackened, as if charred from fire and ashes, the branches barren of leaves, the leaves now fallen and crunching beneath the mage's boots as he walked around it, the eerie light of a torch burning from inside the tree. Xavier stopped, taking a deep breath of the air, filled with decay as it was. He placed his hands on the blackened tree, and concentrated.

He heard Theo approach, out of breath. The Dalish elf was asking him questions. 'how did he run so fast?' 'what was he doing?', and the most important, 'why was he trying so hard to save a dead man?'. Xavier exhaled sharply, but was relieved to see the tree responding. The tar-colored dying pieces of the tree were regenerating as the taint all made its way through the 'veins' of the tree and toward Xavier's hands. The pain in his hands grew as the dark poison grew more concentrated, the veins in his hands turning black as the taint tried to take a place in Xavier as well. The elven mage grunted in pain as he pushed the taint back into place beneath his fingers. He removed one hand to conjure enchantment-engraved Silverite needle pegs, sending them into place around the black handprint left on the tree. He did the same with the other hand, and fell back on his knees to see the two black inky handprints framed by silver pegs, the darkspawn taint unable to change forms and spread beyond the enchanted Silverite, having no choice but to stay in place and smoke in defiance, the tar-black smoke curling high into the canopy of green leaves above.

Theo sagged, his forehead touching the now alive brown bark of the tree. He turned his head to the mage, his eyes watering from relief. "I didn't even realize I was in so much pain until it was gone. I was so sure that I was going to die." Theo looked at the forest around them. "But it's not dead anymore!" The elf stood with his head tilted to the sky, smiling as the visible sun emerged from the beyond green leaves and warmed his face. His elation was contagious, and Xavier laughed quietly, before standing and approaching the Dalish elf.

"I have to leave now. I'm not sure how much longer I can hang on here safely. Please, though, don't question your own worth so much. Everyone needs help now and then, so..." Xavier held out his hand. "Don't hesitate to ask." Theo sobered, but his smile stayed in place. He took Xavier's hand, and pulled the mage into a bear hug.

"Ma Serannas, Lethallin." Xavier tentatively returned the embrace, before smiling and retreating as he felt the sudden pull of consciousness. The mage's 'body' disintegrated into multicolored fall leaves, scattering to the calm breeze. The Dalish hunter sat at the foot of his heart tree, using his dagger to carve a word into the trunk of the tree. "Da'reth."

Xavier was suddenly acutely aware. Pain. He hissed as he felt it nearly everywhere. His back burned, his hands felt as though they had been thrust inside a barrel full of pins, his face was on a hard surface, and his ribs ached from lying such a long time on his stomach. He heard a loud curse from Farrent nearby, as he pushed his hands beneath him, levering himself up to his elbows. It was still before dawn, if the setting moon was anything to gauge time by. He glanced to the side to where Theo laid, his skin no longer pale and deathly looking, but recovering, some of the color returning to his cheeks.

Xavier sighed heavily in pain and relief, the healed gashes on his back sending needles of pain in alert to his brain. The mage pulled himself to his knees, feeling all of the injuries inflicted the previous day. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Farrent watching him in shock. Xavier sent him a smile, and the dwarf blinked, then kicked a lump beside him. Alistair groaned before sitting up, his hair looking as though it had been thoroughly licked by cats, the hair sticking in every direction. Xavier ignored the spluttering ex-Templar as he patted his tight bandaging, grimacing at the broken ribs. He lifted a leg from beneath the blanket, reaching under his robe and finding Silje's handiwork on his ankle as well, the cut closed by healing magic. He was still covered in blood, dirty, and in pain, but Xavier felt happy. He reached for the abandoned roll of bandages, wrapping his hand, but leaving his fingers open. He tore the bandage with his teeth before tying it off and doing the same with the other, taking care to avoid the cut in the middle of his palm from his dream-like experience. These things weren't supposed to seep over, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

He was aware of the stares trained on him, but blatantly ignored them, waiting for someone else to start the conversation. Xavier pulled on his boots, before tying his sleeves with scraps of his bloody shirt so they stayed covering up his biceps, before Farrent finally said something, snapping at the ex-templar before stomping over to the elven mage. Silje rolled over in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent before pulling her blanket tighter.

"What do you think you're doing?" Farrent hissed at him. Xavier gave him an annoyed look.

"Getting up. That's what it looks like, isn't it?" Xavier grunted as he stood up, before fumbling about in the dim light of the sunrise for his pack. Farrent picked up the mage's dagger, throwing it at the elf's feet, making him jump and curse in surprise.

"Do you have any idea how worried you made everyone else?" The dwarf asked, glancing around at the waking camp. Rowan, Artemis, Isiah, and Daveth were waking on one side of the smoldering fire, Rowan was replacing his armor, Artemis was hitting Daveth to remove the human, after he had 'accidentally' moved too close to the warrior elf, even as Isiah laughed at their antics. Xavier glanced over his shoulder at the still sleeping mage before shaking his head at the dwarf.

"I had to do it, and I couldn't waste time telling you all the details." Xavier said with exasperation, as Alistair returned with Jory after they had roused the camp. Alistair fixed Xavier with a look he couldn't decipher, so the mage stared back. A battle of wills ensued, and the entire camp, minus the still sleeping Silje, watched as the Templar and mage both refused to blink. Alistair twitched, his eyes watering, while Xavier watched his efforts with a small smirk. Silje rolled out of her blanket and cursed, and Alistair finally blinked, his eyes watering terribly as he cursed and pouted, as Xavier strapped his pack onto his leg, full-out smiling with the rest of the laughing camp.

Alistair recovered, and as Theo woke, he was mobbed by Artemis and Isiah, both females fawning over him and making him feel like a child being reprimanded by his clan-mates for not telling them how sick he was. "I'm fine now though, and we still need to recover Duncan's treaties." He finally insisted.

"The Grey Warden's treaties." Alistair corrected, but stood to leave as well. They departed their campsite, after scattering firewood about and making it look less lived-in, with Rowan, Alistair and Jory leading, with Xavier and Theo made to stand in the center. Despite the mage's protests, that were silenced by a severe look from Silje. They easily dispatched the rest of the darkspawn stragglers on their way, Theo's accuracy with his bow making Xavier immensely proud of the elf he'd saved, to be improving so rapidly from the taint. The ruins of the Grey Wardens' building were mostly sunken into the swamp, but after sifting through all of the overgrown weeds and underbrush, Isiah found the chest. They all waited while she sifted through the rubble of the broken chest, the grey warden insignia broken and barely visible after being worn away. Isiah looked back to the others before shaking her head.

"They're gone. There is nothing left but the skeleton of the chest." she confirmed. Farrent kicked the chest rubble, sending a piece flying into the swampy area with a sploosh.

"Well, well. What have we here?" A wild looking woman descended from the upper level of the ruins slowly, like a cat stalking her prey. She wore feathers on her clothing, resembling a raven, her leathers speaking of a more uncivilized upbringing. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?" She looked upon the group with disdain, before continuing. "Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" Xavier noted with amusement that the woman's eyes were like the yellow of a wildcat. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or Intruder?"

"Neither. The Grey wardens own this tower." Rowan took the diplomatic approach. The wild woman was not satisfied, however.

"'Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." she motioned to the ruins with a hand. "I have watched your progress for some time now. Where do they go? Why are they here?" The woman walked to the other side of the rubble, speaking as she went. "And now, you disturb ashes none touched for so long. Why is that?" She seemed curious, even though her stalling tactics were obvious.

"Great. She's stalking us now." Farrent muttered.

"Don't answer her. She looks Chasind. And that means others may be nearby." Alistair's whisper was heard by the wild woman, who smiled.

"Fear barbarians with swoop down upon you?" She mocked.

Alistair wasn't amused. "Yes... swooping is bad." He looked as though seriously contemplating the prospect of it.

Daveth had slowly slunk to the back of the group. "She's a witch of the wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads." he whined. Xavier and Silje both shared a look of exasperation, even as Xavier shifted so that he was in between Alistair and the witch, lest the Templar get any bright ideas, like holy Smiting a witch whose power was unknown.

"Witch of the wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" She looked to Rowan, who stared back at her impassively. "You there, handsome lad. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine. Let us be civilized."

Rowan glanced at Xavier, who kept his eyes trained on the witch. "You may call me Rowan."

"And you may call me Morrigan." She crossed her arms over her scantily-clad chest. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"

Alistair decided to be smart again. "Here no longer? You stole them, didn't you? You're some kind of-" He struggled with words. "Sneaky witch-thief!"

"How very eloquent." She snarked before continuing, "How does one steal from dead men?" Her disdainful look had returned, aimed full-force at Alistair now.

"Very easily, it seems." Farrent grumbled.

"Those documents were Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them." Alistair said in his business voice. Xavier put two fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"I will not, for 'twas not I that removed them." Xavier slid his hand down his face in exasperation, tiring of the hateful banter.

"So your mother has them?" He asked, catching the witch by surprise. "Can you take us to her? I would like to leave these wilds soon as possible."

"That is a correct assumption and a sensible request. I think I like you, elf." The woman covered her surprise smoothly, trying to gain the upper hand again.

"I'd be careful if I were you. First it's 'I like you' then its 'zap!' frog-time." Alistair contributed his expansive knowledge again.

"If you had learned anything worthwhile in your training, you should know that it's terribly difficult to turn someone else into something else. Especially on a whim." Silje muttered.

"But she'll put us in the pot, she will!" Daveth whined. Artemis kicked him in the back of the knee.

"If the pots warmer than this forest, it will be a nice change." Jory said.

"Follow me then, if it pleases you." Morrigan turned the way she came, giving them no choice but to follow. They followed the witch back to a small hut in a more soaked area of the swamp. Xavier scrutinized the old wizened witch Morrigan introduced as her mother. "Mother, I bring before you grey wardens who-"

"I see them, girl. Hn. Much as I expected." The old frail-looking woman spoke.

"Are we to believe you were...expecting us?" Artemis asked, her green eyes skeptical. The woman smiled.

"You are required to do nothing. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way one's a fool." The woman's eyes sparked with memories, and Xavier made eye contact with the witch. In a split second, something passed in her eyes, making the elven mage resist the urge to step back. Or run.

"She's a witch I tell you. We shouldn't be talking to her." Daveth whined again. Artemis kicked him in the groin, the man falling to his knees in pain.

"Daveth, if she's really a witch, do you want to anger her?" Theo remarked, watching the man in pain. "And she's most obviously a witch if Morrigan is her daughter." Theo looked to Silje, who nodded.

"Magic is a strong hereditary trait." She confirmed. The woman only smiled serenely, the wicked gleam still there, but only seemingly noticed by Xavier.

"Smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but nice, nonetheless."

"I apologize, M'lady, but we require your assistance finding some documents your daughter informed us you keep." Xavier interrupted what was sure to be the makings of a long irrelevant conversation.

"Such manners! always in the last place you look. Like stockings." Xavier grimaced at the woman's stab at humor. She watched him in amusement, before returning to her facade of the elderly deranged woman. "You are here for your treaties, yes?" She returned a moment later, scrolls in hand. "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these." She handed the bundle of scrolls to Xavier, who passed them to Rowan, giving Alistair a dirty look the Templar ignored.

"We appreciate your kindness." Rowan said, tucking them away.

"Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight is greater than they realize." The woman spoke ominously.

Silje frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Either the threat is more, or they realize less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing." She laughed. "Or perhaps they realize nothing. Do not mind me. You have what you came for." She waved them off.

Morrigan almost smiled, Xavier could tell she enjoyed sending them off. "Time for you to go, then."

"Do not be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests." Xavier could hear the dark-haired witch grinding her teeth in agitation, before she forced out a civil tone.

"Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me." She wearily, leading them in the direction they came.

As the gates to the Wilds swung shut behind them, Alistair wanted more than to collapse in relief. But he didn't, instead going with the large group to where Duncan waited for them, looking anxious and irritated. The elder warden's face instantly cleared as he caught sight of them, his relief quickly turning serious. Rowan's hound, Edel, perked up and ran to her master, knocking the warrior over as he laughed, his face cleaned thoroughly by the mabari's tongue. Silje handed Duncan the vials of darkspawn blood, carrying them because she was the least likely to have smashed them during combat. Alistair glanced at the group. They were dirty and tired, but all healthy, since Silje had healed everyone, especially the elven mage, on their way back from Morrigan and her mother's hut.

Duncan took the blood, and inspected the vials, before a mage came and took the blood from Duncan. The oldest Grey Warden led them to an abandoned area, away from the rest of the camp, where Xavier had met Alistair for the first time. The circle mage returned shortly after with a large ceremonial goblet that didn't look naturally possible to drink from, presenting it to Duncan before she scurried off again.

"Let us begin the ritual then."

"Alistair will now say the words that have been spoken since the first." Alistair took a deep breath before speaking.

"Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Duncan nodded, "Isiah, step forward." the dwarf stepped forth and drank, her eyes rolling back into her head as she spasmed and fell to the ground, unconscious, but alive. Xavier watched on silently with a feeling of dread creeping up on him as Farrent and Artemis did the same. Daveth drank the blood, before falling, dead before he hit the ground. Jory looked chilled with horror. Duncan approached him next with the goblet, and Jory took out his sword, babbling about his wife and unborn child. Silje looked moved to tears, and Xavier put a restraining hand on her shoulder as Duncan ran the refusing knight of Redcliffe through with his dagger. Ser Jory's eyelids sagged, and he fell, dead.

Silje drank next, tears falling from her eyes even as she swallowed. Xavier caught her before she fell, confirming her alive to the others. Theo drank quickly, knowing the pain of the taint, while also knowing that the only available cure possible could kill him. Xavier breathed a sigh of relief as he was confirmed to be alive.

Rowan took the goblet dubiously, looking suspiciously at Duncan, who stared impassively back. Rowan drank quickly, but seemed to choke even before it went down his throat. He started showing signs of rejecting the taint, and Xavier saw the life starting to drain from his eyes. Xavier used his canines to nick the freshly healed top of his hand, coating his hand in the fresh blood before tearing the goblet away from Duncan, downing the last of the vile substance before slapping his bloody hands onto Rowan, one on his heart, through his armor, and one on his forehead even as he began to see spots and flickers of a dragon. Xavier grit his teeth as he forced his way into the fade by force. Again.

Alistair and Duncan watched with separate emotions. Horror and disbelief.

Xavier tore his way through the fade with fervor, the usual weaker demons and shades he saw lurking about the place now shying away into the recesses of the place, away from his rampage. What he'd done was merely stall the taint in Rowan, but it was nowhere near permanent, only as long as he could stand to be 'conscious'. The Mage was again in his fade-walking outfit, and he paused, staring off to a separate island, where a castle-type structure, fade warped, stood. The Fyreblud snake had stopped at the edge of the area he was on, hissing at the far-off structure. Xavier's mind twisted with the taint, but he shook it off, forcing himself forward, because even if he couldn't reach Rowan in time, he wouldn't allow himself to die as well. He still had things to avenge, although he was sure Rowan did as well.

None of his previous shape shifts he had learned with the years of fighting off dreams were flying creatures, so Xavier had no way to fly without help. He concentrated, before calling out to the spirit he desired. "Justice."

There was no answer, but then, he had expected none. "JUSTICE. HEAR MY CALL. I, XAVIER ARYIO SURANA REQUIRE YOUR JUDGEMENT." The mage's voice echoed over the fade plains, as a white armored spirit stepped from the ground, as though climing stairs he couldn't see.

"Young red one. Your voice bothers me." the gravel-like voice grated in his ears. "What judgment do you desire." The redheaded elf stood high, though the spirit's power was crippling, making him wish to die from the lingering pain in his head, as well as the pain intruding from the very air around him, as though the spirit's presence alone was trying to perfect him.

"I desire a life and death judgment. The man's life force is being crippled by a spirit of this domain. I request your assistance in bringing it to justice so he may live." The benevolent spirit stared at him blankly with its glowing white orbs, before lifting its own armored chin. "You enforce the justice here."

"I have heard of you, boy. You hold the shades and demons off every night. It would be much easier to have given in, but you harbor pride as well." The armored being spoke. "I suppose I shall assist you with your deed, as this is a matter I am concerned with." Justice removed the sword from his back, before stabbing a shocked Xavier through the stomach.

The Mage's eyes watered and he turned to see the blade pierced through to where he could see the point over his shoulder. Even as he coughed blood, he could feel the spirit's intentions. The knowledge of an entirely new lifetime surged through him, even as he grappled to pull the sword from his stomach. Justice yanked the sword free with a nasty sound, and Xavier's stomach healed behind the wound, leaving only a puncture wound scar in its place, along with Xavier's bloodstained tunic. Xavier glared up at the spirit from down on his knees, panting from the experience. "I would appreciate knowing you were going to stab me before you did it." The spirit was silent, and Xavier closed his eyes to concentrate on the new memories, shifting his body to fit them.

"That is not my way." The spirit merely deadpanned, in what Xavier guessed was amusement, and watched as the Mage changed to a dark red scaled, slim dragon.

The experience of bursting from an egg was not something he would brag about to anyone. He learned to kill young, and use his claws to defend and fight for territory. He breathed fire upon his enemies, the small beings in metal shells, and saw the true beauty of life in their deaths. He flew, using his wings to awe and inspire, as well as captivate his prey. Xavier the mage fought to keep his own memories, to keep himself from getting lost in the life of another.

Xavier opened his wings, billowing dust all over the place on their current fade island. Justice radiated approval, even as he had to dodge the swing of Xavier's barbed tail. The dragon he had shifted into was larger than any simple dragon kin, but smaller and lither than a high dragon. Xavier hesitated slightly before bowing his head down so Justice could climb onto his neck; he made a jump from the island, his wings snapping out, the leather of the wings themselves bloody red.

As they landed in front of the castle, Justice jumped off and went to the huge metal double doors. He pounded on them yelling at the top of his metaphorical lungs that justice would be reached, but even as he rammed into the door with his shoulder. There was a chorus of squawks and shrieks from the inside, the indignant cry of a powerful shade and its followers. Xavier, still a dragon, leapt over the wall, disappearing into a fray of shades and demons. After a while of trying to break in, Justice had merely waited, knowing the seals and barriers on the door were too powerful to be broken with mere force.

Xavier fried and froze the demons, reveling in the madness of it. He was finally protecting more than just himself in the fade. He could remember the first time he'd burned down a town... Dragon-Xavier shook his head, pushing the foreign memories away. The dragon whose form this had been was brought to justice upon the ancient spirit's blade, as retribution for needless killing. Getting caught up in the sociopathic dragon's memories would be a great way to be killed. Xavier kicked the doors open with a large claw before shifting back into an elf again. Justice ran in, to see nothing but the elf.

"We have to get inside. To the throne room." Xavier explained.

"We must make haste if we are to make it in time." Justice agreed.

"Then we should run." Xavier's eyes glittered as he didn't wait for the spirit's approval, taking off like he had in Theo's forest, the stone walls of the castle blurring on either side of him, though the swirl of madness the darkspawn taint carried made it more difficult to concentrate on his destination. The castle was oddly empty; when Xavier slowed and crept around the corner before the throne room, listening to the far-off sound of Justice's approaching chain mail. Xavier could feel two presences in the throne room, one a demon, and the other Rowan. Xavier approached the hall, seeing the demon right away, facing in his direction, and Rowan with his back to him. The demon he saw was an older man with grey hair wielding a sword and axe against Rowan's greatsword. Xavier could visibly see Rowan's life energy being syphoned off him by the 'man' posing as whomever Rowan most wanted dead.

The more effort and work Rowan put into killing the man, the quicker the energy was being taken. The more time wore on, the more dangerous it got for the warrior's health, especially with the high level of darkspawn taint trying to settle into his body. Xavier reached for a sword on his back that he knew had to be there, before weighing it in his hands. The fighters had moved as they fought, circling each other to the point that the demonic being could no longer see him. Rowan was entirely focused on the fight, the elf invisible to him until a blade protruded from his enemy's chest, before being yanked back and lopping off the demon's head. Rowan merely stared, uncomprehending, as the elf wiped his sword off on his pant leg, before turning back to the body of Rendon Howe that was no longer there.

"Once something in the fade dies, everything they created dies with them. They no longer exist. So," The elf made eye contact, dropping his sword, though the warrior didn't hear it hit the ground. "Rowan. You need to get a grip. Killing whoever that man was wouldn't have changed anything. He was a fake. As well as this island is. We need to leave. You especially." Rowan only understood that this red elf was his friend, and his words made sense, though he didn't know why. Rowan nodded blearily, and followed the elf to where another warrior was dispatching a large group of shades and lesser demons. "Justice." The elf addressed the fighting spirit. "The creator is killed, so we're running on borrowed time here!" Justice finished his fight with a flourish, flicking the 'blood' from his blade.

"I see I am needed no longer. Justice has been delivered to those worthy. I shall take my leave then." The spirit walked to a fade portal, and didn't look back once as he departed. Xavier knew that thanking him would have no use, since he had no need for that. The elf turned to Rowan. He looked in pain, though there were no visible wounds. The elf took a hold of the collar of Rowan's armor, pulling him down to eye level. The elf bit into his palm, before putting his bleeding hand on Rowan's stunned and still blank face, grunting as he forced the warrior out of the fade; into consciousness by force. Rowan faded, and Xavier let himself collapse, before he felt the ground below him dissipate as everything in the fade did, when its master was dead. He fell, and saw a small floating island approaching from beneath him. Too exhausted and confused by the taint to change into a dragon, he felt himself continue to fall.


End file.
